Where have you been? What have you seen?
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By ClearOfCloud
FLYER Club Member  FLYER Club Member
#1533518
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Every pilot has what I call “memory” flights; flights which were remarkable, special. Flights which, over a lifetime of aviating, plot the unique course of who we are as pilots. Often they are our firsts; first solo, first flights with family; perhaps our first emergency. Sometimes they are remarkable because of the aircraft, or the setting or the weather. The thing about these “memory” flights is that often we don’t know we’re experiencing them; that they’re shaping us, until we reminisce some time later. As Steve Jobs said, you can only join the dots looking backwards. You don’t always have to look back though. Sometimes you just know that you are flying one of those “memory” flights.

I had travelled to the Cambridge Aero Club to try a course of aerobatics to see if I could get the wonder of looking up at the ground to overcome my feeble stomach. I knew from my previous experience of rolling upside down that I was going to find the course physically uncomfortable. At the same time I had a feeling that if I could somehow overcome the apprehension, the wooziness, the clammy hands, the dry mouth that the reward might just be worth it. And that’s how I found myself strapped into the front seat of the fastest, most powerful machine I had ever flown, climbing over the spires of Cambridge at an angle that left me speechless.

I had seen pictures of Extra200s but had never been up close to one until the morning of this flight. It is a compact little machine, about the same length as the Luscombe but ten feet narrower. It sits low to the ground and although it is purposeful looking it manages also to be pretty at the same time - like a dancer, elegant but muscular. That elegance was now whisking me across the sky like no aeroplane before.

Cambridge disappeared swiftly behind and we were still climbing with ease. It was a beautiful, bright May morning; a perfect day for wandering around in an aeroplane. It wasn’t ideal for putting the Extra through any sort paces though. We leveled out at about 2500 feet but for safety we needed to be a couple of thousand feet higher. A dense layer of cumulus lay scattered above us, chinks of aquamarine tempting us through to play. It was a sky full of what my instructor called “suckers gaps” - holes in the cloud are just big enough lure you up on top but are just as likely to close behind you.

As we cruised around looking for a gap big enough to play in, Anthony handed cover control. “Okay, I have control”, I replied as I placed my hand on the stick. “Whoa !!!”, even the slightest touch on the stick sent the Extra nosing around the sky. Anthony made knowing noises behind me - “the very lightest of touches is all you need”. I was clearly not the first to have been surprised by the responsiveness of this machine. In our early training as pilots our instructors spend a good deal of time encouraging us to loosen our grip on the controls - aeroplanes know how to fly, tall they need is our thumb and forefinger to guide them. I suspect even a thumb and forefinger is too much for the Extra, the movement of my thoughts from brain to fingers seemed to be enough for this aeroplane. It just seems to know where you want to go. It didn’t take long to get the basic feel for “mind control” machine - and I liked it, I really liked it.

As a student you sit up front in the Extra. The engine cowling falls away from your sight-line and sitting so far forward, there’s not a lot of wing in your peripheral vision. It has a one-piece canopy and with no window frame interrupting your view you are basically flying around with a head full of sky in every direction - when you’re upright. With almost nothing appearing to be between you and the sky and the aeroplane’s mind controls the Extra really did feel like a magic carpet in the sky. I wondered how I could ever go back to the Luscombe. I wondered whose thoughts were controlling who? Was I controlling the Extra or did the Extra now have a grip on me.

We found a gap.

It wasn’t big enough to climb through but it was big enough to climb up play in. We started some basic handing. We started with climbing and descending, practicing steep turns and avoiding the soft walls of cumulus that rose magnificently above us. Watching the cloud arc past our wings, blue to the right, the lush Cambridgeshire fields off the tip of our left wing. We were playing with the sky. Almost cloud surfing. The beauty of it all was almost too distracting. I knew right there, in that moment that this was going to be one of those flights I would never forget. I could almost feel the synaptic traffic writing the memories.

I re-engaged my learning brain as we examined the Extra’s stalling characteristics, which were perfectly mannered and the clearest example I have ever had of what happens when a wing stalls.

Our playground was signaling closing time so while there was still space, we turned 180 degrees and Anthony demonstrated the classic barrel roll. It was too much for my learning brain - I just let the colour and light in. This was flying as it should be. Like the first time in the sea when you realise you can slow somersault underwater, somehow avoiding the earth’s draw, letting the shadow and sound captivate.

One more turn, one more maneuver. My instructor lowers the Extra’s nose, builds up a little speed and pulls up. I feel heavier in my seat; the canopy turns blue with sky and I glance to the left, to see clouds on their sides as we pass through vertical. I feel lighter now and look up to see Cambridge glide across the canopy and I follow the countryside till the fields and roads are now over the nose and we’re heading downwards. Squeezing against the G-forces as we pull level and then release when the horizon returns to where I’m used to seeing it.

I’m frazzled and transformed as we descend from our little aerial schoolyard. Physically I’m still perturbed but mentally I am enchanted. Anthony handles the landing and I reluctantly accept responsibility for taxiing us safely back to the aeroclub, wishing I had longer legs to reach the rudder pedals. Shutting down, I welcome the rush of air as we open the canopy. It may add to the magic but the greenhouse effect of the plexiglass doesn’t add to my comfort. Stepping off the wing I open my flying suit for a little more cooling and turn to face the patch of sky we have just been.

I know right there this has been one of those special “memory” flights; that I will never forget my first flight in the Extra; that this will a flight I think of when I reminisce about the beauty of flight. Walking, ever so slightly wobbly, back to the cool of the club-house I also know this:

My body may not be built for aerobatics but my heart is definitely made to fly free.
mick w, TheKentishFledgling, rats404 and 3 others liked this
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By ClearOfCloud
FLYER Club Member  FLYER Club Member
#1533724
Thank you you. Glad you enjoyed it !!

There's a lot more content over on my website if you're interested in reading some more

I'm heading back to Cambridge for more Extra time at the end of the month...maybe I'll have a write-up done by 2018 LOL

David
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By ClearOfCloud
FLYER Club Member  FLYER Club Member
#1539632
@TheKentishFledgling since you enjoyed this aero flight; I made it back to Cambridge in May and it was an altogether different experience.

I don't think it warrants a new "Trip Report" thread but here's how this year's efforts started.
http://www.clearofcloud.ie/2017/06/surprised-by-success.html
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By ClearOfCloud
FLYER Club Member  FLYER Club Member
#1540276
@TheKentishFledgling @foxmoth

Discovering the quarter-clover and beginning to understand what aeros are really about.
http://www.clearofcloud.ie/2017/06/losing-limitations.html
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By ClearOfCloud
FLYER Club Member  FLYER Club Member
#1544485
Probably my last aero's instalment for a while until I make it back to Cambridge ...sniff, sniff :-(
A piece about the lessons learned and why aerobatics doesn't necessarily make you a better pilot
http://www.clearofcloud.ie/2017/07/aerobatic-myths-and-lessons-learned.html